


Skybright

by Merixcil



Category: AOMG Entertainment, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: ??? - Freeform, M/M, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-03 23:16:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5310839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merixcil/pseuds/Merixcil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yoongi doesn't think much of the cold, Kiseok knows how to make the best of it</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skybright

“You want anything?” Kiseok asks, his nose pressed against the glass of the freezer front as he leers at the ice cream within.

“It’s four degrees outside,” Yoongi replies. He’s decided he’s not going to say anything about the greasy nose prints Kiseok is no doubt leaving on the glass but that doesn’t mean he can’t look on with incredulity.

Kiseok shrugs, “suit yourself,” then points to the tub of Rocky Road and grins at the girl behind the counter, “three scoops please.”

She answers him with the same flattered yet flustered smile that most people resort to when it’s Kiseok talking to them - he has that effect on people - then sets about constructing a veritable ice cream tower at his request. Yoongi watches her force three scoops into one cone and manages not to laugh, he doesn’t miss the extra half scoop she sneaks in at the end.

“Keep it,” Kiseok winks at her when she tries to hand back his change. The girl blushes scarlet and stammers out a thank you.

“Meany,” Yoongi mumbles as they walk out of the shop. He’s smiling despite himself but tries not to let it show lest Kiseok’s smug satisfaction with himself get any more prominent.

“I was just giving her what she wanted,”

“Oh I’d say she wanted more than some lose change.”

Kiseok snorts, “she got enough.”

The shop door swings closed behind them, and they step out into the early afternoon chill of Seoul in winter. It’s a clear day, and weak sunlight streaks the streets, the milky blue of the sky blindingly crisp against the skyline. Yoongi shivers and pulls his coat closer around him, shoving his hands firmly into his pockets. Subconsciously, he shifts further into Kiseok’s personal space to bask in his body heat.

Kiseok is wearing baggy jeans and a hoodie, and not much else as far as Yoongi can see. He appears to be completely unaffected by the cold, however, and starts licking at his ice cream with gusto.

His eyes light up, “this is good,” he says, voice muffled by the mess of chocolate and marshmallows in his mouth, “You wanna taste?”

The cone gets shoved under Yoongi’s nose and it’s with great effort that he shakes his head. It looks like good ice cream, properly dark chocolate with swirls of pretty pink marshmallow running through it…but he’s cold enough as it is, and this close to a comeback his manager would skin alive him if he found out he’d had been eating sugar.

They’re in a somewhat sleepy neighbourhood somewhere south of Gangnam. The streets are still divided into the clinical grid system that dominates the south of the river, but the skyscrapers are a distant shadow, and there’s space enough between the buildings to breathe. They amble along the pavement, both smothered in hoods and beanies to make it harder to pick out their faces, but it’s a whole lot more relaxing than trying to maintain privacy in the city centre.

Kiseok’s arm snakes around Yoongi’s waist, drawing him in closer. He’s ridiculously warm, like a human radiator; Yoongi can hardly say he’s not thankful for the extra heat. But if Kiseok’s a human radiator then he’s a human ice cube and he’s still shivering through his coat.

Kiseok frowns, “you cold, babe?”

“I told you,” Yoongi grumbles, “it’s four degrees out.”

“It’s cuz you’ve got no meat on your bones.” Kiseok says, nodding towards the ice cream to indicate that this would all go away if only Yoongi would take him up on his constant offers of food.

Yoongi scowls and waves the cone away once again, “you know it doesn’t work like that, hyeong.”

“Yeah yeah idols have it rough,” Kiseok says like he doesn’t quite believe it, “anyways, we’ve still gotta get you warmed up.”

Under Kiseok’s guidance, they pick up the pace, dodging down side streets and turning corners till Yoongi no longer has any idea where they are relative to the subway station. They pass at least four Seven Elevens, and he’s about to suggest that they might be going in circles, when they turn down a narrow alley which opens up onto a park.

Well, maybe ‘park’ is a little generous, but there’s a bench and a few trees and a wide expanse of tarmac, topped with a single basketball hoop. Yoongi can’t say that he’s overly impressed, or that he can see himself getting any warmer standing out here, especially when Kiseok pulls his arm away and starts kicking around in the grass.

“What the hell is this?” Yoongi whines, “hyeong I’m cold! I thought you were taking me to a café or a sauna or something.”

“A sauna?” Kiseok’s eyes light up, “I hadn’t even thought of that, great idea. I know a nice little place we could go to sometime.”

“How about now?”

Kiseok chuckles low in his throat, “not just yet baby, I have something else in mind for now.” He stands up very quickly, turning to face Yoongi with the ice cream still clutched in his right hand and something hidden behind his back in the left.

Yoongi squints at him “what are you playing at?”

Kiseok doesn’t say anything, just brings the ice cream to his lips and takes a very long, slow slurp. The cone has been worn down so far that he can now take the entirety of the remaining Rocky Road goo in his mouth at once, lips running up the edges till they reach the tip, flecks of chocolate sticking to the corners of his smile.

Yoongi watches him go, expressionless, “I’m not gonna suck your dick out here if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“Well I never! How could you even suggest such a thing? I’m not that kind of boy,” Kiseok simpers around the tongue in his cheek. He brings his left hand out from behind his back, and triumphantly holds the basketball hidden there out for Yoongi to take.

Yoongi doesn’t take it, “where did you even find that?”

“Under the bench. Jay keeps it there in case of emergencies.”

“Jay Park keeps an emergency basketball under a bench in a shitty little park in the back ends of Seoul,” Yoongi deadpans.

Kiseok nods, “I told you he was weird.”

With three mighty crunches, the entirety of the cone vanishes into Kiseok’s mouth, filling his cheeks up like a hamster as he wiggles his eyebrows menacingly, eyes shining in the sun.

Yoongi knows that look, it’s Kiseok’s ‘let’s play a little game look. In the bedroom it usually signals the start of a journey into some kink Yoongi never even realised he had, but out in the bright light of day it spells danger.

Kiseok starts bouncing the basketball casually from hand to hand, “you know, a little bird told me that someone’s a bit of a b-ball ace.”

“It wasn’t a little bird hyeong we’ve talked about this,”

“We have, and now I wanna see it.”

“I’m really not in the mood-“

“It’ll warm you up,” Kiseok brings the ball up to his chest, ridiculously overlarge hoodie spilling down his arms, chocolate still lingering on his lips and grins. For a moment, Yoongi would almost say he looks cute.

Then he comes to his senses, and with weary resignation steps out onto the tarmac, “ok then, let’s get this over with.”

 

Kiseok wasn’t lying, this definitely warms him up. Yoongi starts off less than enthused with the idea, trailing after his boyfriend somewhat sluggishly and barely making an effort to retrieve the ball after it slips out of his fingers.

“C’mon, you can do better than that,” Kiseok drawls, as he reclaims the ball and starts dribbling around the court perimeter.

Of course Yoongi can do better, but skinny jeans and nice coats aren’t exactly ideal sportswear. All the same, after a few minutes forcing his limbs to move, they start to cooperate and he feels ready to take things seriously.

The truth of the matter, is that Yoongi’s nowhere near as good as he once was. The kid who had to choose between basketball and idoldom would no doubt be disappointed but for today he’ll settle with being able to outrun Kiseok. Not that Kiseok’s bad, he’s just nowhere near Yoongi’s level.

And of course, once Yoongi gets going, he gets competitive. He’s quick on his feet, and quicker with his hands, running circles around Kiseok and snatching the ball back should he ever chance to lose it. He supposes he should feel at least a little bad about giving his boyfriend such a thorough thrashing, but it’s hard to be sympathetic when winning feels so good.

“And Min Yoongi scores again! Putting Team Swaggy at seventy points, way out in front of Team Supreme!” Yoongi cheers, applauding his own hard work and scooping up the ball before it can roll too far away.

Kiseok flips him the bird, “Team Supreme? Really?”

“I panicked!”

“Clearly.”

Yoongi’s not sure how long they’ve been playing, but he can feel sweat beading on his back and his face reddening fast. They must have been at this for a while. Kiseok’s hair is sticking to his forehead with sweat and he’s definitely out of breath, maybe it’s time they took a break.

“You tired, old man?” Yoongi grins.

Kiseok doesn’t skip a beat, “you warm, little boy?”

Yoongi pauses like he’s pretending to think about it, spinning the ball on the tip of a finger absentmindedly, “Nah, I’m hot.”

“I’ll say,” Kiseok chuckles, walking over and taking the ball out of Yoongi’s hand and all of a sudden they’re within each other’s personal space.

He’s never been one for extravagant public displays of affection, but something about Kiseok’s demonstrative affection attracts Yoongi to him like no amount of cold indifference followed by steamy sex ever could. He’s comfortable being casually close to people, and even when, like now, there’s a danger of them being spotted, Yoongi can never find it in himself to push him away.

It probably says a lot about Yoongi’s past relationships, that not being emotionally distant is new ground for him, but for now he’s happy enough acknowledging that he actually likes Kiseok as a person as much as Kiseok likes him.

Kiseok’s hands close over Yoongi’s and he moves to pull him forward into a hug, only to stop at the last moment, “your hands are still freezing.”

“Yeah, they do that. Bad circulation.”

“You poor thing,” Kiseok murmurs, bringing one of Yoongi’s hands to his mouth to kiss the knuckles, the warmth of his breath skimming over his frozen fingers.

At first, Yoongi thinks Kiseok’s going to sucking on his fingers right there in the middle of the park. That, he would say, would be one step too far. Luckily for both of them, Kiseok does no such thing, and instead takes Yoongi’s hands and pulls them into the pockets of his hoodie.

The change is instantaneous and very welcome. The inside of Kiseok’s pockets are warm from his bosyheat, and when he links his fingers with Yoongi’s it’s warmer still.

“Better?” he asks. Yoongi nods.

He knows that Kiseok’s going to kiss him, but it still comes as a bit of a shock. Yoongi lets his boyfriend lean into him, their hands still curled around each others as their lips press together, sure and soft.

Kiseok peppers his mouth with light kisses, smiling as he goes, and Yoongi tries to keep up, to meet him in the middle. He keeps missing, and finds himself more kissed than kissing, till they come together at just the right angle, mouths slightly puckered and parted, and he feels a tongue sweep across his bottom lip. Kiseok tastes like Rocky Road ice cream, and smells like he could have come straight from the gym.

After that everything is easy, because kissing’s always easy. Yoongi knows how to press his lips against another pair of lips, to slip his tongue along someone else’s tongue; he rarely gets to do it just because he can, however. He wonders if that’s something that happens when you grow up or if he’s just gotten used to dealing with sex and ditching relationships, but it’s been a very long time since he made out with someone just because.

Kiseok pulls back, rubs their noses together, and pecks Yoongi on the lips one more time for good measure, “we better get moving, don’t want you getting cold now, do we?”

Yoongi sort of wants to say something about how Kiseok’s more than capable of keeping him warm all on his own, but decides that that sounds far too much like sweet talk, “We’re going to the sauna?”

“Sauna?” Kiseok lets out a bark of laughter, “not today. Soon though, I promise, my treat.”  
Everything is Kiseok’s treat. Yoongi can hardly say he minds, he occasionally offers up a half-hearted plea that he should be paying for cinema tickets and restaurant tabs and all manner of wonderful things that he gets treated to, but he’s disappointed when these get rejected out of hand.

They walk back the way they came, Yoongi’s right hand still linked with Kiseok’s in his hoodie pocket.

“So where are we going?” Yoongi asks when the ball has been returned to its spot under the bench.

Kiseok narrows his eyes and looks Yoongi up and down like they’ve only just met and he’s trying to get the measure of him, “you’re way too skinny, we’re going someplace that sells cake.”

And Yoongi would say something about how his diet plan definitely doesn’t include cake, but he figures he has it hard enough without denying himself small pleasures. Besides, it would be rude to turn down a treat.

**Author's Note:**

> YOONKISEOK HAS LANDED for the pleasure of a select few lmao


End file.
